Christmas for the Headmaster
by G01den W01f 11
Summary: After the loss of his only daughter, Headmaster Gaepora is unable to get into the holiday spirit, until a young child reaches out to him.


Beta Readers:

Raynre Valence - Sage of Time  
WhiteKitsuneKnight

* * *

**Christmas for the Headmaster**

Being the headmaster of the Knight Academy had always been lonely work. Whereas the instructors usually finished their tasks before sunset, the Headmaster would sit long hours more, burning candle after candle until everything was in order. When Christmas approached, and the students were released to spend time with their families, the Headmaster stayed behind, preparing for the ceremony.

And when the Headmaster's daughter vanished, sucked by a waking apocalypse to the Surface below, the Headmaster had to smile for the good of the island and perform his duties regardless.

Headmaster Gaepora stood atop the Statue of the Goddess, holding a pure white sailcloth. It had been his daughter's once, and his wife's before that. But such thoughts were useless. Today, the sailcloth belonged to the Goddess, and she was approaching.

He kept his eye on a speck of blue that was on the horizon and growing ever larger. It resolved itself into a Loftwing, bearing the Goddess and her Hero.

Long ago, when the Goddess Hylia first descended into the world of mortals, she took the form of a young maiden, clad only in a crude garment of leaves. The man who would one day become her Hero had found her, and brought her to his city, where she had received sustenance and shelter. Thus did the people of Skyloft receive the Goddess's blessing.

The Loftwing landed upon the statue, and Pipit—no, the Hero—dismounted and extended a hand to help down the Goddess. The one who was supposed to be Zelda.

"Elder, I have found this maiden lost in the woods. Let us take her in, and clothe her, and grant her our protection. For the light is fading, and the night is treacherous." the Hero intoned.

The Goddess, led by the Hero, took a tentative step forward.

"Come then, lost maiden," Gaepora said. With a motion honed by decades of duty, he wrapped the sailcloth about her shoulders and tied it at her neck, formally taking her under his wing. "Share our bread, for we have food in plenty. Share our joy, for in your presence it overflows."

Taking her hand from Pipit, he led her to the altar behind him, where there sat a boiled egg. With a sense of almost ethereal grace, the Goddess reached out, turned it in her hand, and took a bite.

"You have proved your nobility this day, child of man," she said, but the voice was too deep, too sonorous. "Now be blessed, as you have blessed me." Then she raised herself on her toes, and planted a chaste kiss upon each of his cheeks.

At that moment, all the Skyloftians standing at the base of the statue joined together in a great hymn, and for just a moment, lost in the sea of voices, Gaepora could pretend that all was well.

* * *

At the close of the ceremony, Gaepora took a last look at the crowd, then turned back to the Academy.

"Headmaster! Headmaster!" called a young voice behind him.

He turned to see a young girl running up to him. The top of her head barely came above his knee, though her hair rose a few inches higher than that.

"Ah... Kukiel, isn't it?" He forced himself to smile. Such a dear girl, she had no cause to see his burden. "Did you enjoy the ritual?"

"Uh-huh," she said, nodding. "Ms. Orielle was so pretty!" She jumped up and grabbed his hand, and he chuckled as she tugged at it.

"Come on," she said. "You gotta see this."

Gaepora let her lead him across town, over a bridge, and up a hill. He had paperwork to get back to, but it would still be all over his desk in an hour. If Kukiel was so excited as to grab his hand and yank him around, she must have had a good reason for it.

When they came to a door set in the side of a hill, the girl stopped and made him close his eyes. With a sigh, he complied, and then Kukiel pulled at his hand once more.

"Merry Christmas!" sang a chorus of voices.

His eyes shot open.

The small room was packed full. Three long tables spanned the room, each laden with a plethora of dishes. The middle table was even buckling from the weight. Chairs were crammed wherever they would fit, and around them gathered nearly a dozen Skyloftians. Owlan and Horwell stood together in a corner, looking upon the scene with warm but refined smiles. Groose stood taller than he usually did, flanked as always by Cawlin and Stritch, and even Fledge was smiling.

Gaepora gazed from one beaming face to the next, lost for words for the first time in a decade.

Orielle approached and pulled out a chair for him.

"No one should have to spend Christmas without their family," she said.

"So today, _we're_ your family!" Kukiel yelled.

"I... thank you." It was all he could trust himself to say.

He sat down, and everyone else followed suit. Orielle sat to his right, and Kukiel was on his other side, staring at him intently as he scooped food onto his plate. When he took a bowl of pumpkin soup, she took a smaller one. When he soaked a piece of bread in it, she did just the same.

"I wanna learn to grow up to be just like you," she said.

Pipit and Karane ended up squished next to each other on a tiny wooden bench, and looked to be having quite the time figuring out how to eat without bumping their elbows into each other. Henya sat beside her husband, as relaxed as he had ever seen her, and Wryna kept flitting in and out of the kitchen, ensuring there was always enough food on the table.

"I can't even begin to understand how you must feel," whispered Orielle. "If there's anything we can do—_anything—_just say so."

"You have done enough already," he replied. He had never known that he had such good friends, who would go out of their way to prepare a Christmas dinner for him. Owlan and Horwell had wives, and yet here they were, jesting with each other as they cut up a fried bird. How much time and sweat had gone into this evening? To prepare such a feast at the Knight Academy with all its resources would have been a headache, but this from one woman's kitchen?

Gaepora relaxed the tight hold he nearly always maintained on himself and ate until he was ready to burst. It was unhealthy, it was gluttonous, it was behavior unbecoming of the Headmaster of the Knight Academy… but it was so delicious. There were two roast hams, marinated in pineapple juice-a fruit that certainly did not grow on any island nearby. Dishes of mashed potatoes of every variety went around, some smothered in gravy, others seasoned with garlic, and still others with chives and other things he could not quite identify. There was fruitcake and cranberry sauce, apple cider and pumpkin cider, and for desert (of course) pumpkin pie. Gaepora had some of everything, and when he felt he could no longer eat he took a little more.

When they were all finished, and Wryna and Fledge began clearing the table, he leaned back in his chair, not quite willing to get up anytime soon. Kukiel, however, seemed to have other ideas.

"Headmaster, you're super smart," she said. "How did they celebrate Christmas when everyone lived on the Surface?"

He was not fooled, of course. Everyone knew the story of Christmas before the Schism. But it was a popular tale, and if she wanted to hear it again, he would be happy to tell it.

"Every day was Christmas for the surface-dwellers," he began. "For you see, Kukiel, the Goddess walked among them."

"Excuse me, Headmaster," Orielle said. "But I refuse to listen to Christmas stories without a fire in the hearth."

Owlan clapped his hands together at this pronouncement. A wave of nodding passed through the room. "We can hardly speak of the Surface's celebrations without a proper fire," Pipit agreed, and already Horwell was moving toward the hearth.

Gaepora grinned and forced himself to stand. His stomach complained briefly at this, but it would be worth it when he was sitting at the fire and telling the story proper. As the younger knights pushed aside the tables to make room, he brought his chair over to the fireplace, which under Horwell's care already exhibited a small flame.

The others arranged their chairs in a circle around him (though Kukiel insisted upon sitting in his lap), and everyone stared at him with eager smiles and shining eyes.

He had not had this much fun at Christmas in a very long time. It had usually been a lonely affair, just him and Zelda, with Link joining them in the years after the unfortunate accident. It seemed that he had forgotten the joy of the holiday.

For the first time since Zelda vanished, Gaepora smiled a genuine smile. Perhaps the Headmaster of the Knight Academy was not so lonely a position as he believed.

* * *

Miles below, Link threw off the still-smoldering shield. The sleeve of his tunic had burned away beneath it, and the mail that remained seared the hair from his arm. He did not dare stop to take off the metal coat that was now all he had for protection. He had not the time. Zelda was ahead.

He staggered past the remains of Ghirahim's fiery servant and heaved open the door beyond.

The next room was flooded in light. There was not only the ethereal glow that seemed to radiate from the chamber's center; torches lined the walls as well, each engaged in its own dance as if to welcome him to the heart of the Earth Temple.

As soon as his eyes adjusted, he froze, unbelieving. He had spent the last month fighting his way to find her. He had fully expected to find her at the end of this temple. And yet...

Seeing her there, atop the pedestal, he had to wonder whether he had really succeeded, or if this was some desperate trick of a tired mind.

But then she turned, and there was no mistaking her gasp of delight, or that dip in her head as she readied herself to run down the steps, and already he felt his aching legs propelling him across the distance between them, not caring that he had just nearly died, not caring that he had had trouble just walking out of the room unsupported, she was_ there_, and this horrible quest would soon be over, and-

An arm, sinewy and rigid, came down between him and his friend.

The tall woman who had hailed him before muttered words he could not make out.

Zelda turned away.

"I... I have to go. I'm sorry, Link." And then she stepped into the pattern of light that shone upon the pedestal and was gone.

He froze, assaulted by a barrage of fierce emotion. Instant confusion gave way to despair at the loss, to anger that after a month of pursuit, she had turned from him with hardly a word, and throughout it all his entire body screamed at him to just lie down and sleep for a week or two.

But the fact remained that he had not yet returned Zelda to Skyloft, and so he ran after her, toward that pattern of light she had entered.

Then the other woman, the one who had come between them just before they were reunited, spoke.

"It took you far too long to get here. Looking at you, I fear the goddess is mistaken in her choice of agents."

It was not the words, nor her sharp tone fit to draw blood that stopped him. She had some primal ferocity in her red eyes that seemed to reach across the room and demand his attention.

"If this failure is any indication, you have no hope of defending Her Grace from those who seek to assail her," she continued.

"That is not for you to decide." A practiced hand reached back and drew his sword.

Instead of drawing a weapon of her own, she just stood there and laughed.

"Do my words anger you, boy? Do my words sting? Let them. If I had not come when I did, your Zelda would already have fallen into the hands of the enemy. The truth of it is you were late. You were late, and you failed to protect her."

The woman vanished into the light as well.

All Link could think about was the set of chains in the Temple._ I calculate the probability Zelda was bound by it recently at 95%_, Fi had said. Had the interloper not been there, Ghirahim would have had her.

This mysterious woman had saved Zelda. He had done little more than slay a handful of inconsequential beasts.

His dire efforts had been useless.

His legs gave out, and he found himself kneeling, his face kept from the marble floor only by his hands he had reflexively extended before him.

"Master," said a tentative voice from his sword, "I do not suggest pursuing Zelda in your current state. Without proper rest, I calculate a-"

"_Thank you,_ Fi. I am stubborn, not stupid."

He reached to the pouch at his side. It was some minutes before he finally managed to work it open, and then he raised a vial half-filled with red liquid to his mouth. He counted to ten as he let the magic work through his body, then raised himself to his feet. His legs shook, but they did not scream as they had before.

"This changes nothing," he told his companion, and all else who might be listening. So he was slow. This was useful information. Now he knew to be faster in the future. Run instead of walk. Learn his enemies' habits and destroy them before they can react. Keep an eye out for shortcuts. And surely Fi could speak for hours on how he could optimize his performance.

Zelda was gone, and he would do anything to get her back. He could not just trust her fate her new companion._ Something_ was hunting her, and if there was anything he could do to keep her safe, he would. Not only for her sake, but for her father, who had been such a wise mentor and dear friend to him. Already he had dueled a demon-prince to a stalemate, and he would go further still, if he must. Zelda would survive the Surface and return home to her father.

No matter the cost.

* * *

tl;dr I don't understand holidays. Merry Christmas, or whatever.


End file.
